i love the fact that i can still call my sisters “butthead” and not have to worry about sounding stupid. sisterhood so closely resembles the fountain of youth; you never age when you’re around it and no wrinkle can make you seem older in your sisters’ eyes. kind of like tuck everlasting.

The first week in August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.

the magical tale written by natalie babbitt, tuck everlasting, was a timeless piece chosen by my sixth grade teacher as the centre for our novel study unit. when i look upon this book now, it reminds me of everything i hoped to be as an adult back when i was still a wide-eyed elementary school student. just the thought of growing old scared me to the point where this novel seemed a very welcomed comfort to my relentless fears. the idea of being able to live forever, as the tuck family could, seemed a wonderful concept to this little girl who wanted nothing more than to play forever.

however, after reading the book to the end and realizing the woes of living through decades of hardships and strife, i began to think otherwise about eternal existence.

the conceptual issue of immortality isn’t something to which very many sixth graders are subjected. and it’s not something many children will be able to comprehend in its entirety. hell, even some adults don’t get it. i’m glad my teacher saw past the fanciful and seemingly fallacious imagery of babbitt’s words and saw the novel for what it was: an eye-opening tale of life, death, and the problems that arise when one of those elements is without the other.

i’m not scared of growing old now, for i know it will be gradual and i won’t even realize that i’m old until my mind decides to tell me that i am. and the only person who can change what my mind has in store for me is me. of course, with the help of sisters everlasting.